


Not Wine and Song

by Tentaklingon



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:03:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tentaklingon/pseuds/Tentaklingon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For all the pleasures of Elven life he had known, Thranduil is overcome by his longing for the dwarf king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Wine and Song

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this request at the Hobbit kink meme : http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/1990.html?thread=1168838#t1168838

In his long life Thranduil had known the pleasure of wine, of song and dance and worship. He had known Elven love, as cold and beautiful as diamond, and the passionless caress of his kin. 

He was old when something new awoke in him. The Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain grew strong and plentiful, and his duty as king dictated he put old animosities aside and pay them tribute. And there, at the heart of the mountain, in the halls of Thror, something changed within the Elvenking. 

Thranduil had been old and bright and strong as mithril, but the young princeling was the forge that could melt even his hard and ageless heart.  
He knew that the balance of an elven heart was a delicate one. He could not submit to temptation, could not show weakness, or he might bring himself and his kingdom to ruin. 

And so Thranduil did not heed the Dwarven call, even as the dragon came and the Lonely Mountain lay in desolation. Oh, and it hurt beyond compare, to turn his back on Thorin,   
and feel the burn of those betrayed eyes follow his retreat.

 

\--

 

Years came and went, and Thranduil's affection had festered in his heart. With every day of familiar Elven pleasures he grew more and more restless, longing for the uncontrollable fire that the Dwarven princeling so carelessly lit, cursing Thorin's oblivious beauty and his own weakness.   
But fate mocked him once again, as centuries of controlled emotion were shattered in one fell swoop when the elves of Mirkwood captured Thorin's company.

The dwarves were fed, but otherwise ignored, until Thranduil deemed himself fit to see Thorin once more.

Thranduil stood before Thorin, now Oakenshield and aged with war and hardship, but as fair as he had been all those years ago in the halls of the King Under the Mountain. He ached to touch his prisoner, who stared at him as fiercely now as he had when Erebor fell, and now Thranduil could not turn his back.

"Release us, Elvenking." Thorin demanded at once when Thranduil entered, as if his royal claim still meant something to anyone but himself. It took all Thranduil had to resist him.

"It is a poor king who will let uninvited visitors go without good reason. You are thin and weak, son of Thrain, and you are lost in _my_ woods." They were along in Thorin's cell. Thranduil could not avert his eyes from the beautiful, furious face without admitting defeat. "Why are you here, Thorin?"

And still the dwarf refused to speak, "We are no threat to you, lord of Mirkwood. Let us go!" 

There it was again, the defiance that set Thranduil's cold heart afire. "Do not presume to command me in my own halls, you who are king of nothing--"

"Will you have me fight my way out of here?" Thorin's anger was quick, and quicker still he was on his feet. But Thranduil pushed him back, and once he touched Thorin his control crumbled like old rock. 

They struggled their way to the floor, but Thorin's state was as poor as Thranduil presumed, and before long he had the upper hand. Strong, long arms pushed Thorin to the floor, and Thranduil leaned in closer than he had intended. 

"This is my domain, and you are in my graces, not I in yours. I will keep you here forever if I must!" 

Thranduil's fair face was red with frustration, his hair disheveled from the fight, and all his control fled from him. He took Thorin's head in his hands, almost reverently, and cursed himself once more. 

"What have you wrought upon me, son of Thrain? Must I be a slave to your affection?" 

And in his moment of weakness, Thorin seized him, and pinned Thranduil under his own weight.

"Is it for love that you refuse me now, then? Is it for love you refused as at our greatest time of need?" Thorin seethed, his mouth almost touching Thranduil's. "Your love is a vile thing indeed, Elvenking."

With a word, Thranduil was defeated. 

"But if it's with love I must bargain our freedom, so be it."

There was no tenderness in the way Thorin plundered Thranduil's mouth, rough and bruising, bringing him to ruin with a single kiss. Is was the same fierceness the Elvenking had seen in his eyes, but stronger by a thousandfold, Thorin's tongue was searing where it touched. Thranduil wrapped his arms around the small, strong body and held tightly. 

He could not Let the dwarf leave him, not now, not ever.

Then Thorin pulled back, out of reach of Thranduil's desperate mouth. 

"Tell me, Elvenking. Tell me you love me, tell me you desire me, tell me you will do anything for me..."

Thranduil looked up at him, helpless and aching, still panting from the kiss.

"Anything, my beloved Thorin. If only you would not leave me."

Thorin kissed him again, and again, and worked Thranduil with his skilled hands until he was reduced to wordless lust and incoherent begging. Thorin ravished him, until he could no longer take it, until he promised the dwarf anything and everything. And when he was done, Thranduil left, exhausted and happy beyond compare. But it would not last long.

The next night the dwarves were gone, and Thorin with them.


End file.
